


Queen's Consent

by robinwritesallthethings



Series: Henry Cavill Characters [9]
Category: The Tudors (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, American Heiress in London, Charles Brandon Loses It a Little, Charles Brandon Teaches Tea, Charles Brandon is Not Amused, Charles Brandon is Ridiculously Cute with His Dog, Charles Brandon is a Loyal Cinnamon Roll, Charles’ Ass Won’t Quit, Doctor Who References, Enemies to Lovers Technically But It’s Pretty Fast, F/M, Family, Gen, Gross Girl Behavior, Hard Confessions, Henry Still Has Six Wives, Henry is Still an Annoying Ho, Historical Flirting, I Don’t Really Understand How the British Government Works and It Shows, Illegitimacy, Jousting, Language, Lots of Three-Piece Suits, Military, Mistaken Profession, Misunderstandings, Pets with Personalities, Political Drama, Public vs. Private, Rare Books, Risky Business Slide, Romance, Self-Insert, Serious Darcy and Elizabeth Vibes, Sir Charles Brandon Because He’s a Modern Knight, So Many Full English Breakfasts, So Much Curry, Some Jane Austen Shit, Superman Diet, Their Pets Are in Love Too Because That’s Just Adorable, There Had to Be at Least One Corset, Totally Jacked Charles Brandon, Two History Nerds in Love, Wikipedia Isn’t the Best Source But We All Use It Let’s Be Honest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:20:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26662825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinwritesallthethings/pseuds/robinwritesallthethings
Summary: In this modern AU (minus the pandemic) ofThe Tudorstelevision series, Prime Minister Henry Tudor’s American half-sister arrives in England to claim her inheritance, and while his best friend and Secretary of State for Defence Charles Brandon finds her crass and wholly unsuited to her new life, he also can’t help falling for her.
Relationships: Charles Brandon/Original Female Character(s), Charles Brandon/Robin Ballard (robinwritesallthethings)
Series: Henry Cavill Characters [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1925797
Comments: 18
Kudos: 41
Collections: Tudors - Charles Brandon/OC





	1. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry tells Charles that he has a sister.

**England, September 2020**

“I have a sister, Charles!” Henry yelled just before serving the ball.

Charles easily returned the shot. When Henry missed it, Charles straightened, running a hand through his short, slightly curly hair and squinting across the court.

“What?” he asked.

“I have a sister!” Henry repeated, retrieving the ball and jogging to the net.

Charles walked forward to meet him, crossing his massive arms over his equally massive chest. “I’m lost, Henry,” he admitted.

“She’s in my father’s will,” Henry explained. “He left her an estate and a sizable inheritance.”

“What does that mean for you?” Charles wondered, spinning his racket absentmindedly in his hand as he considered the implications.

Henry waved a hand dismissively. “I’m absolutely fine,” he assured Charles. “In fact, this is good for me.”

“It is?”

Even after all these years, it was hard for Charles to tell what Henry was thinking. He was too mercurial to be pegged. So Charles had learned to be vague and let Henry elaborate, which he enjoyed doing anyway.

“She’s coming here, Charles. To claim the house and the money. The lawyer already contacted her. And she’s planning on staying, at least for the moment.”

“Ah.”

It was a mildly interesting event, but he didn’t see how it concerned him. He didn’t even see how it concerned Henry, really. He wasn’t particularly attached to his family, and Charles couldn’t see him changing that for a sister he’d never known existed until now.

“You know that the press has always thought me a cold man who’s too distant from his family,” Henry scoffed, as if nothing could be further from the truth.

Charles knew better, but he also knew when not to confront Henry with the unfortunate realities of his life that he didn’t want to face, so he stayed silent.

“This is my opportunity to show them that I’m anything but,” he declared, pointing his racket at Charles. “If I welcome my illegitimate half-sister with open arms, it will do wonders for my image, especially now that I’m Prime Minister.”

Charles nodded thoughtfully. It wasn’t the worst idea Henry had ever had.

That was assuming this sister would go along with all his plans, of course.

“I’ll need your help, Charles,” Henry said bluntly.

“Of course,” Charles replied immediately.

Henry was as close to him as any of his brothers. He had been a loyal friend, and defended and elevated Charles whenever he had an opportunity. He would never deny the man anything.

Not that he hadn’t earned every favor he’d gotten. But he was an honorable man, and he always paid back what he’d received two times over.

“I need you to meet her at the airport and escort her to her estate. And give her a crash course on Britain, if you will. I need her to be palatable to the people. If she’s not, no one’s going to care how nice I’m being to her.”

Henry began to walk to the bench where they’d left their bags, grabbing his water bottle and taking a long sip.

Charles joined him. “She’s not English, then, I take it?”

“No, Charles.” Henry grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. “She’s American.”

Charles groaned inwardly and gave Henry a pointed look. “American, Henry? There’s no chance the people will find her palatable, then,” he joked.

He was more reluctant than he let on. The last thing he wanted was to be some stuck-up American’s tour guide.

He also wasn’t particularly a fan of Henry’s plan to use a relative he’d never met as a political pawn. Partially because Henry knew nothing about this woman, as far as he could tell, but also because Charles just plain didn’t agree with it.

Henry laughed heartily at Charles’ assessment. “Perhaps not, but we’ll see. Just promise me one thing, Charles?”

“What’s that, Henry?”

Henry threw his arm around Charles’ shoulders, clapping him on the back in the process. “Don’t sleep with her,” he murmured.

Charles laughed briefly as Henry referred to his reputation as a playboy politician, which he didn’t think was exactly deserved.

While he’d dated plenty of women recently, it wasn’t just because he was only interested in sleeping with them. He considered himself a gentleman, and his ultimate goal was to settle down. He just hadn’t found the right partner yet.

But he didn’t talk about any of that with Henry. The man had his own romantic troubles, and Charles didn’t wish to burden him with his as well.

“Of course not, Henry,” he promised easily.

He never made promises he didn’t intend to keep, and this one was simple.

He was sure that nothing about Henry’s half-sister would tempt him at all.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robin Ballard arrives in England.

**England, September 2020**

Robin Ballard squinted at her phone, studying the family tree she’d downloaded for what felt like the millionth time since the lawyer had called.

Her mother had never said much about her father. Eventually, as she’d grown older, she’d given up on finding him. She’d done fine without him for years, after all, so why bother?

She’d always assumed he was no one of consequence, but that obviously couldn’t have been further from the truth.

Her father had been the Prime Minister of England. Well, not when she was conceived, but he had been eventually.

And now her half-brother, Henry Tudor, held that prestigious position. While her hours spent puzzling over Wikipedia articles about the British Parliament hadn’t gotten her any closer to understanding how the system worked, she knew that that essentially made him the most powerful man in England.

She had no idea what that meant for her just yet, but she was interested to find out.

Probably nothing, she guessed. She wasn’t a politician. And she and Henry were both old enough that the revelation of a sibling likely wouldn’t mean that much to either of them. While she was intrigued, she certainly didn’t feel any particular attachment to him.

Then again, maybe she was wrong, since Henry didn’t have any other siblings. He’d had an older brother, but according to what she’d read, Arthur Tudor had died when he was fifteen. Even though it had been a long time ago, maybe Henry had always dreamed of having another sibling, even a sister specifically, and would therefore be very excited to meet her.

She didn’t know how she was going to handle it if he was. She knew she couldn’t exactly trust the media’s representation of any public figure, but she’d seen enough of Henry in the last week to convince her that he honestly didn’t seem like that great of a person.

He was liberal enough. She’d checked that out first thing. But he seemed arrogant and callous, a little too convinced of his own worth, like most successful white men she’d met.

And he didn’t seem all that interested in his family. He was married to Catherine Aragon, a Spanish politician who was brilliant, but a little too conservative for Robin’s tastes. They had one child, Mary, who was nineteen and beginning to pursue her own political career, and as far as she could tell, the three of them didn’t spend a lot of time together. Catherine and Mary were basically attached at the hip, but Henry seemed to keep his distance.

Not that he didn’t have a good excuse, necessarily. His father, and hers, she supposed, though she was still getting used to that idea, had been Prime Minister of England until his recent death. Even though it wasn’t a hereditary position, Henry had been elected to it next. She had read that he was perfectly qualified, so it wasn’t nepotism or anything. But obviously, he was busy, especially since he’d just taken up the reins.

Too busy to meet her at the airport, unsurprisingly. Even if he could have, he probably would have been mobbed or something. It seemed to her that British politicians were treated almost like they were part of the royal family, based on the news coverage.

Her research had revealed that Henry actually was distantly related to the royal family. Which meant she was too, though it was more distant for her, because Henry’s mother had given him the stronger tie.

It was kind of like being in a romance novel or a Hallmark movie. But since the technical prince was her brother, it couldn’t go the way it normally would.

Thank goodness. She had enough on her plate. She wasn’t looking to deal with anything like that at the moment.

She had big plans for herself, and she was hoping they would all work out now that she actually had some resources at her disposal.

She looked up as the plane began to land. She’d been so absorbed in her own thoughts that she hadn’t heard the announcement. It was hard to believe that she was about to be in England, a place she’d always wanted to go.

And she wasn’t just going to see the sites related to its interesting history or many famous authors and books. She was going because she was an heiress to an English estate. And a literal pile of money. More money than she’d hoped to make in her whole life, much less all at once.

It was a little intimidating, if she was being entirely honest with herself, but she was diving in headfirst with no safety net. She had to. If she spent too much time thinking about it, she’d chicken out and not do anything at all, and she knew she’d regret that.

She’d flown first class for the first time in her life, so she was able to get off the plane right away. She was fully aware that she did not look like she belonged in first class. While she’d splurged on the ticket, she hadn’t on anything else yet.

Still, she held her head high as she made her way through the airport. She had no idea who she was looking for, but as she emerged into the lobby after going through what felt like ten more security checks, she saw a man holding a sign with her name on it.

And not just any man. Like, a MAN. Capital M-A-N. She paused for a moment to take him in, hopefully before he realized who she was.

He was very tall. Taller than her, though that didn’t take much, but she estimated he dwarfed her by almost a foot. His hair was cut short and neat, but still boasted slightly untamed dark brown curls. She couldn’t see his eyes from a distance, and she didn’t want to try too hard to get a look, since staring at him would certainly tip him off as to her identity, she was sure. But she could see that the beginnings of a five o’clock shadow graced his chiseled jawline.

All of that was, well, very attractive, to say the least. But it was absolutely nothing compared to his build.

He was the widest man she’d ever seen. Broad shoulders, broad chest, broad hips. She was pretty sure that one of his thighs equaled two of hers, and hers were thick.

And it was all accentuated by the lovely three-piece suit he was wearing. He looked like he just didn’t belong in it, like he was too big for clothes to contain. But he also still made it look incredibly good.

Especially because it was blue pinstripes. In her humble opinion, that was just rude.

She felt herself flush and automatically reached up to tug at the collar of her chunky sweater. It had been perfect for the plane, and would be perfect for the weather she expected to find when she stepped outside, but right now she was a little warm.

She took a deep breath, trying to get herself under control before she introduced herself. She’d be lucky if she could even make coherent sentences around this man.

Then her time was up as his eyes slid to her. He raised the sign a little higher, holding it against his chest as he raised his eyebrows questioningly.

She nodded and walked closer. His eyes were blue, she noticed. Very blue. Like, get lost in the ocean blue. And she loved the ocean, so his eyes reminding her of that was yet another problem.

“Ms. Ballard?” he inquired professionally.

She’d been hoping he wouldn’t have a sexy British accent, but he definitely did. Some people just got all the luck. In addition, his voice was deep and smooth, like the best kind of dark chocolate.

She was not okay at all.

“Yes, that’s me,” she managed to answer. “And please, call me Robin.”

The lawyer had insisted on calling her Ms. Ballard, despite her many attempts to convince him otherwise. If that was how everyone was going to talk to her from now on, it was going to get old fast.

Plus, if he said her name in that hella sexy voice of his, she could file that away for later use.

Personal, private use.

She was proud of herself for not stammering and sounding like a complete idiot. She could tell her cheeks were still pink, though. It wasn’t as bad as when she was a teenager, but she’d never entirely gotten the blushing under control.

“Welcome to England, Robin. I’m Charles Brandon. I work with your brother, Henry Tudor. I’m afraid he’s occupied today, so he sent me to greet you.”

He held out his hand and she took it. It was kind of like shaking a bear’s paw. But a big bear you wanted to hug rather than run away from.

She caught a whiff of his cologne as she leaned closer. He smelled good too? Was there anything wrong with him at all? Just one little thing?

“It’s nice to meet you, Charles. Can I, uh, call you Charles?”

The uh in this case had nothing to do with being mesmerized by him. She was not great with social etiquette. She was awkward at the best of times, and this was no exception.

To cap it off, she was in the land of manners, so that was just great for her.

“Of course. Why don’t we retrieve your luggage and be on our way?”

“Yes, please,” she requested.

It wasn’t that she was eager to see the estate, which was sure to be an experience. It was just that she hated airports and wanted to be out of this one and in a more comfortable space.

He tucked the sign under his arm and smiled at her, holding out the other. “Shall we?”

His smile was dazzling, and his teeth were brilliantly white. “Oh, um, yes.”

She tentatively wrapped her hand around his offered arm, unable to keep her eyes from widening a bit in surprise as she actually felt his muscles. He was completely jacked, which wasn’t shocking, but she wasn’t sure she’d ever met a person who was this in shape. She was certain that she did not look great in comparison. Most of her weight was curves, really, but there was a little more than necessary packed onto her frame.

English eating probably wasn’t going to help with that, either, if what she’d seen on Google and TV was accurate.

Though his smile didn’t change, his eyes did. It was subtle, but she was pretty sure he was laughing at her.

At least he was nice enough to not do it out loud. That was something.

She let him lead her to the baggage claim, trying to convince herself that she wasn’t in her own personal Jane Austen novel. He was just being nice to her because he was paid to, she was sure, and she was still convinced that there was something wrong with him. On the outside, he looked good, but the inside could be a totally different story.

This was the way her life was going to be now. British manners and being deferred to simply because she was related to the Prime Minister.

She’d just have to get used to it.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles quickly realizes that he doesn’t like Robin.

**England, September 2020**

Charles glanced at the woman beside him as he guided her to the baggage claim. “How many bags do you have?” he asked.

“Just one,” she replied. “Everything else is being sent.”

He nodded as they waited for the carousel to start turning. She didn’t say anything, so he let his mind wander briefly.

Perhaps he’d been hasty in his promise to Henry. So far, she was nothing like he’d expected.

He couldn’t tell where she was from based on her accent. It was too mild, and not distinctive at all. She also clearly didn’t understand British etiquette or manners, but that wasn’t unusual for someone who hadn’t grown up here.

And she really was quite fetching. As he studied her, he found himself looking for similarities to Henry. Her identity had already been verified, of course, as part of the inheritance. He was just curious.

Their hair was a similar dark brown color. Hers fell to her chin in loose waves. Her eyes were hazel. Unbeknownst to most people, Henry had one eye that was partially hazel, very similar to Charles’ partially brown one. Henry wore contacts to make both eyes look completely blue. Charles didn’t bother, and he found that most people didn’t even notice. Her hazel was very similar to Henry’s, something only someone close to him would know.

That was where the similarities seemed to end. She was paler than Henry, and her face was rounder. She was quite a bit shorter than Henry as well. And where Henry was slim, she was all curves. Her breasts in particular were spectacular. He could tell even through her thick sweater.

He didn’t know what she did for a living, but she certainly didn’t dress like someone who was constantly in the public eye. Her sweater was nice, but worn, and her jeans disguised as leggings, while fashionably distressed, were worn as well. Her flats were scuffed, and she wasn’t wearing any jewelry. Her brown leather shoulder bag was high quality, but she had probably been using it for over a decade.

However she’d been raised, it certainly hadn’t been with decadence. He didn’t know why he’d assumed differently. Perhaps because she was American, and the majority of Americans he met were arrogant, ignorant, and wholly intolerable.

Maybe she’d inspire Henry to a little humility. Highly doubtful, but he could dream.

The carousel started to move and she began to scan the suitcases as they slid slowly out from behind the plastic folds covering the door cut into the wall. She stepped forward, clearly having spotted hers.

He pressed his large hand over the one she still had on his arm and she looked back at him, her cheeks flushed. “Allow me,” he offered. “Which one is it?”

“The purple one,” she murmured, pointing unnecessarily.

Every other suitcase was brown or black. Hers was exceptionally cheap, he noticed, and was another possession she’d clearly had for some time. It felt like it had practically nothing in it at all when he lifted it off of the conveyor belt with one hand.

“There’s a car waiting outside,” he informed her. “Let’s go.”

He made sure not to walk too fast as he led her in the right direction, trying not to think too much about the fact that she was obviously attracted to him. He had promised Henry, after all.

Besides, she had just arrived here. He was sure the last thing she wanted was to start a relationship, and that’s where he was in his life. Just sleeping with someone was fun and all, but it just wasn’t what he was interested in anymore.

Not to mention that he didn’t know anything about her except that she was American, pretty, and apparently hadn’t had much money until now. There could still be plenty wrong with her.

Perhaps she had an awful personality. The chance was high, if she took after Henry’s father, not to mention Henry himself. Charles knew how to tolerate the man, but most other people found it difficult. He was challenging, to be sure.

They arrived at the car. He put her bag in the back as she stared out at London.

“Wow,” she whispered. “I can’t believe I’m actually here.”

“Have you ever been before?” he wondered.

She shook her head. “First time. I’ve always wanted to. I could just never afford it.”

“It’s a lovely city. We’ll make sure you see all of the sights.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

He opened the door for her and let her inside. He’d brought a driver so he didn’t have to park at the airport, and the back of the car was very spacious. She moved to the bench on the other side so he could slide onto the one next to the door.

When he shut the door, he pressed an intercom button and told the driver that they were ready. The car started to move and she looked at him curiously.

“Where are we going?”

“To your estate,” he told her. “Your brother thought you’d like to settle in at home first thing.”

“I would. Thank you.”

She stretched her legs out, slumping in her seat so she could put her feet on the seat next to him. He bit the inside of his lip disapprovingly, but didn’t say anything.

“So, Charles, what do you do for my brother? I’m guessing bodyguard.”

She gestured at him, fanning her fingers out, clearly implying that his body made the assumption obvious.

Charles furrowed his brow and grimaced, unable to help himself. “You think I’m a bodyguard?” he asked distastefully.

Not that he thought there was anything wrong with being a bodyguard. But he was qualified for a bit more than that.

“You kind of have that vibe,” she observed. “Strong and silent. Am I wrong?”

“Yes,” he said shortly. “I’m the Secretary of State for Defence. I’ve served in the British Armed Forces for almost twenty years now, and I’m very decorated.”

He wasn’t trying to brag. It was just true.

She raised an eyebrow. “I think I read about that one on Wikipedia,” she remembered.

“Wikipedia?” he sputtered. “You read about the British Parliament on Wikipedia?”

Suddenly she was far less attractive.

“I was just poking around,” she defended herself. “Are you giving me a test later or something?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “No, but your brother is the Prime Minister,” he pointed out. “You’ll be expected to be a bit more savvy than that.”

She crossed her arms petulantly over her chest. “I wasn’t aware that anything would be expected of me at all,” she retorted. “I’m not a politician. I have my own life to live, you know. I assumed I’d meet my half-brother once and then that would probably be that.”

Charles shook his head as she emphasized her true relationship to Henry. “I think he’s hoping you’ll be more involved than that,” he warned her, “but it’s not my place to say. You’ll have to talk to him about it when you meet.”

“I will, obviously.” She fixed him with a look. “Isn’t your position technically unnecessary in the government? I read that the Prime Minister doesn’t even have to appoint a Secretary of State for Defence if they don’t want to.”

He crossed his own arms, mirroring her stance, though on him it was a much more intimidating look. “You trust Wikipedia as your source?”

His voice was withering, but she just shrugged. “It does pretty well for just basic information, I’ve found. Am I right or not?”

He rolled his eyes, supremely annoyed when she grinned. “I am, aren’t I?”

She was being smug, and he hated it. “Not exactly,” he ground out through clenched teeth.

“But basically?” she goaded him.

“The Prime Minister controls the position,” he growled. “They can even appoint themselves to it, legally. But that’s not the precedent.”

“Still,” she muttered, purposefully glancing away from him. “Well, pardon me for thinking that your job was to pound faces in, considering that you’re built like a brick shithouse.”

He huffed. A brick shithouse? She wasn’t wrong, but it was such a crass way to put it.

He quickly revised his assessment of her. She was just like most other Americans he’d met. Inappropriate and willfully misunderstanding of the customs of anywhere but where they came from.

This was going to be excruciating, he decided.

“How far are we going, anyway?” she chimed in, apparently ready to let the previous conversation go.

He supposed he would have to as well. While Henry had pointedly asked Charles not to sleep with his sister, Charles knew that didn’t mean he could be rude to her. Why hadn’t he been able to keep his cool?

“Not far. The estate your father left you is in London,” he explained tightly. “He built it himself, just for you, apparently.”

“I know,” she sighed, biting her lip. “The lawyer told me. That’s why he wouldn’t give me any details. He wasn’t supposed to. Everything was meant to be a surprise when I got here.”

His face softened as her eyes shone with tears. He saw her bite her lip harder and he knew that she was trying not to cry.

He was suddenly reminded that she’d just lost a father. One she’d never known, but the fact that he’d provided for her in his will, and with specific instructions, must have brought up many emotions he couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

He may not have liked her very much, but he had to give her some compassion, at least.

He remained silent until they arrived at their destination. He sat up as the car came to a stop. “Your father bought one of the estate houses that was set to be demolished because it wasn’t enough of a historical landmark. He knocked it down, kept the land, and built this for you.”

He opened the door and slipped out, reaching for her hand to help her.

She ignored it, exiting the car on her own.

Apparently he’d wounded her pride just as much as she’d wounded his.

A tall fence surrounded the estate. The gate was embellished with a calligraphy P crafted from silver, or something that looked silver, at least.

“Welcome to Pemberley, Robin,” Charles said quietly, gazing at it.

It was quite tasteful, he thought. A short stone walkway led to the front of the house, which was flanked by beautiful trees and set back from the curb as far as it could go and accommodate the rest of the structure, which he knew included a back patio. There was a small pond in the front as well. The house itself was constructed from light gray stone.

“Your father never would have been able to find this much available land in London otherwise,” Charles continued as she stared. “It’s a whole acre, which is impressive for a personal residence in the city. And you’ll be able to access all of the city’s amenities by walking or using public transportation, since I understand that you don’t drive.”

Now she did grab his hand, and the tears he’d seen glistening in her eyes earlier finally slid down her cheeks. He squeezed her hand back comfortingly as she sniffled.

“How did he know all of this?” she murmured. “Pemberley? That I don’t drive? I…”

She trailed off. She clearly had more to say, but she was talking to herself more than to him, so he didn’t reply. He didn’t know the answer anyway.

“All of the papers you need are inside, in the office,” he told her gently. “The lawyer will be by later to go over everything. I’ll carry your bag in and then leave you alone to get settled, unless there’s anything else you need.”

Suddenly, she yanked her hand away and crossed her arms over her chest again. “I can carry my own bag in, thank you,” she said tersely.

“Very well.”

He got the bag out of the car, then fished her keys out of his jacket pocket. “Here you are. Your father made the code to the gate 1818, but you can change it if you like.”

Her eyes widened at that. It held some significance for her, but he didn’t know what. And he didn’t ask as she merely nodded and turned to go.

“There’s one more thing,” he called after her, following her to the gate.

“What?” she almost snapped, closing her eyes briefly afterward and frowning. “What?” she repeated more calmly.

He tactfully ignored the slight outburst. “Henry is coming by tomorrow to meet you. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but he enjoys staging historical sporting events, and he’d like you to join us at one tomorrow. We’re jousting.”

She looked at him oddly now. “Did you say jousting?”

Charles smiled. “Yes. It’s entirely safe, I assure you. There’s already appropriate period attire for you inside.”

“Appropriate period attire,” she repeated. “Whatever you say. I suppose I’ll see you there?”

“Likely only from a distance.”

He turned and headed back to the car. Part of him felt bad for leaving her alone. She had no friends here, and she was obviously upset.

But she hardly wanted comfort from him, he reasoned. They were not going to get along. Their altercation in the car couldn’t have made that more clear.

So he slid back into the vehicle to go about the rest of the day. He had plenty to do before tomorrow.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robin finally meets her brother. And attends a joust. Because why not?

**England, September 2020**

Robin stared at the dress, then at herself in the full-length mirror in her obscenely large bedroom. Trying to put this thing on was ridiculous.

“Bonnie!” she called. “Help!”

Bonnie Williams, Robin’s housekeeper, bustled into the room. “Coming! Oh!” She clapped her hands together. “Excellent job so far, Robin.”

“Really?” Robin asked incredulously.

“Really,” Bonnie confirmed. “You just can’t do the rest by yourself. I’ll have to lace you up.”

“I can’t believe I’m going to wear a corset,” Robin huffed. “My tits are going to look insane.”

“Well, you’re going to a jousting tournament. Maybe you’ll attract a suitor,” Bonnie teased.

Robin snorted. “Oh, please. No one’s even going to care that I’m there.”

“What about Mr. Brandon?” Bonnie wondered. “I know he escorted you home yesterday. He’s very handsome, and very single.”

“And he’s going to stay that way, as far as I’m concerned,” Robin replied, sucking in a breath as Bonnie pulled her laces tighter. “We didn’t get along very well. He’s not my type at all. Though I don’t disagree with the handsome part. It’s a shame that a man that attractive has such a wooden personality.”

Bonnie didn’t say anything else about Charles as she continued to help Robin dress, but Robin saw the knowing smile that crossed her face right after the conversation stopped and couldn’t help but wonder what she knew that Robin didn’t.

Regardless, Charles Brandon was as far as he could be from her mind right now. Ever since she’d arrived yesterday, it had been a whirlwind, and she still wasn’t recovered.

The lawyer had explained that the estate was hers. It was paid off, and the taxes, maintenance, and staff were paid for for life.

She hadn’t expected to have a staff. She’d been thinking she didn’t need them at all before meeting Bonnie. Bonnie was not only the estate’s housekeeper, but the leader of the rest of the staff.

Thankfully, that staff wasn’t as elaborate as Robin had thought. It was just Bonnie and several others, most of whom maintained the grounds and some of the more difficult features of the house, such as the wood-burning fireplaces and their chimneys, the extravagant curtains, and very high ceilings.

There were no footmen or butlers or anything like that, and no chef, although Bonnie had mentioned that she could cook. It made Robin feel a little less self-conscious, especially when Bonnie, who was close to her age, eagerly agreed to behave more like friends than employer and employee.

The staff also didn’t live in the house, meaning no issues with privacy. So Robin had kept everything the way it had been given to her, especially since she hadn’t wanted to deprive anyone of a good job. She knew how hard it was to make your way in the world, and she didn’t want to make it harder for anyone else.

But she’d made it clear that there would be plenty of holidays, and any time off that was needed without consequence. She could manage by herself, for the most part, and they could just do what they had to at their own pace.

Once Bonnie got the dress on her, Robin noticed that it fit perfectly. Putting aside how Henry had gotten her measurements, she fluffed her hair out critically.

“First of all,” she pointed out, “I don’t think that necklines were this low in that era. Second of all, I do not have the right hair for this outfit at all.”

“I can do something with it if you’ll let me, Robin,” Bonnie offered.

Robin shrugged and sat, grunting a bit as the corset kept her torso from moving. She watched with interest as Bonnie began to expertly comb her fingers through Robin’s hair, twisting it into artful curls that she pinned to her head in an intricate design.

“There,” she announced proudly. “Should we do your make-up as well?”

“Oh, um, I don’t wear any,” Robin admitted.

“Perfect, then. You’re ready. And your brother should be here any moment.”

Robin stood carefully, trying not to move too much because of the corset. “Thank you, Bonnie. I know that this is above and beyond your regular duties.”

“Oh, please. It’s fun. I hope you have a good time.”

“I’ll try. I’m not really sure what to expect. I’ve never been to a joust before.”

“I don’t think most people have,” Bonnie observed, winking at her.

They both heard the front door open and a voice called out, “Robin! It’s Henry!”

She took as deep of a breath as she could in the corset. “Coming!” she called.

“Wish me luck,” she whispered to Bonnie.

“Good luck,” Bonnie whispered back encouragingly as Robin hurried out to the foyer.

She stopped in her tracks, smiling as she saw her brother standing there. He was dressed in what reminded her of something people wore in medieval movies right before they put on armor.

He grinned as soon as he saw her. “Sister! I see the dress fits perfectly. You look wonderful.”

“Thank you, um…” She blushed. “Do I call you Henry?”

“Of course, of course,” he assured her. “You’re my sister.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Henry,” she said, trying to calm her racing heart.

She really had no idea how to act. And she had so many questions she wanted to ask him about their father, but she wasn’t sure that was such a good idea right now. She didn’t want to cry or be upset and end up being a mess before going to meet a bunch of people.

Especially Charles. He might try to be nice to her again, and she couldn’t bear the false sympathy. It was like hanging out with Mr. Darcy at the beginning of _Pride and Prejudice_ and never getting to move on to the part of the book where he improved.

“Come, or we’ll be late,” he said, offering his arm. “We can talk in the car. I have a driver.”

“Of course.”

She managed to get into the car with Henry’s help. He laughed at her a little, but it was good-natured. “I have to admit that I’m glad I don’t have to wear what you do when I dress up in period clothing,” he told her.

“Tell me about it. What you’re wearing looks far more comfortable, but I’m guessing you’re putting on armor later?”

“Very good! Do you know something about the time period?” he wondered.

“Well, I suppose that depends on exactly when you’re talking about, though I’m guessing medieval. I studied history as part of my degree in college.”

“Medieval is what I’m interested in mostly, mixed with a little bit of the Renaissance,” Henry explained. “We are doing entirely safe jousting, of course. Padding, blunt lances.”

Robin nodded. “Charles told me yesterday.”

“Did you like Charles?” Henry asked excitedly. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t meet you myself, but I knew I could trust him with you. He’s my best friend.”

Well, in that case, she didn’t want to say too much about what she really thought. She doubted she’d have to see him that much, anyway.

“He was very kind,” she hedged.

Even though most of that kindness had been feigned.

“He’ll be jousting today,” Henry informed her. “Did you know that he’s an actual knight? Technically, he’s Sir Charles Brandon.”

“Is he? He didn’t mention it.”

“He wouldn’t have, unless you asked him directly. He’s very humble, Charles, despite his many skills. And very handsome, obviously,” Henry joked. “But don’t worry. I told him you are strictly off limits.”

“I see,” Robin replied carefully.

She didn’t want Charles Brandon, of course. But the idea of a man, even one in her family, perhaps especially one in her family, telling anyone they could or couldn’t be with her definitely rubbed her the wrong way.

She wasn’t going to bring that up, though. And Henry didn’t seem to have noticed her hesitation, since he just continued talking.

“He’s a bit of a playboy, Charles. At this rate, he’ll never settle down. It’s a bit juvenile, really, and causes him some problems, but no one’s perfect.”

He slapped his knees and looked at her. “I’m so sorry. I’m talking your ear off about Charles and I’m sure you have questions about our father.”

“Oh. Well, um, I do, but I’m… I’m not sure it’s the best time for it now. It might be emotional, and we’re about to go to a party.”

“I hadn’t thought about that,” Henry sighed. “Very well. Later, then. I have questions for you too, of course. We should have dinner together sometime.”

“Of course,” she agreed. “I could make something for you,” she offered. “I like to cook, and now I can afford to cook whatever I want, so.”

“That would be lovely,” Henry agreed. “Let me look at my week later and get back to you. As you might imagine, I’m quite busy.”

“I did guess that,” Robin laughed.

“Regardless, please don’t mistake my lack of presence for not wanting to get to know you. It’s been a long time since I had a sibling, and I never had a sister.”

“I read about your brother. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.”

Henry patted her hand as they arrived at their destination. Robin realized that she’d completely lost track of time. She had no idea how far they’d traveled.

Henry helped her out of the car and brought her to a sort of viewing box in front of a tilt barrier set up in the middle of a large field. “I have to go get ready,” he told her, “but please have fun.”

She nodded. “I will, Henry. Thank you.”

He headed off, turning and waving at her. She followed him with her gaze, flushing and sitting up a little straighter as she saw him approach Charles.

The man was standing in front of a beautiful black horse. He was smiling and speaking gently to it, patting it affectionately. When he noticed Henry, he nodded at him.

Then he frowned as Henry said something and pointed directly back at Robin. She quickly looked away, not wanting to know what they were talking about. She had no idea what Charles had told Henry about her, although she was guessing that, like her, he’d been vague.

She was guessing he wasn’t dumb, even though he was annoying. He’d know not to say anything bad about her to Henry.

The box began to fill as the event got closer to starting. Robin found herself being introduced to a multitude of people, all who knew who she was, though she had no idea who most of them were.

The woman who ended up sitting next to her was Anne Stafford. Much to Robin’s dismay, she immediately began talking her ear off about Charles Brandon. She was clearly interested in the man, though based on the superficial nature of her comments, Robin was guessing what she was really interested in was his admittedly amazing body.

Anne also apparently knew that Charles had retrieved her from the airport, and Robin could tell she was fishing to see if there was anything between them. Robin remained vague once again, trying to play everything close to the vest, especially for Henry’s sake. Though she wasn’t interested in Charles in that way, she didn’t want to admit it outright and have people gossiping about how she didn’t like him.

The event officially started when Henry rode up on his horse and announced that the gentlemen would now seek favors from the ladies present. Robin loosened up a little and laughed at that. She enjoyed going to Renaissance Faires, and the play-acting was one of the best parts.

She saw Charles making his way over to them and assumed he was heading for Anne, considering the way she was hailing him.

But when he arrived, he smiled at her instead. “Robin,” he addressed her warmly, “would you do me the honor of letting me wear your favors today?”

Now she realized what Henry had said to him earlier. He must have asked Charles to do this, either so she wouldn’t be embarrassed by having no one ask, or so that no one else could try and take advantage of her relationship to Henry.

He lowered his lance so she could reach the end of it and she smiled slyly at him. Well, if this was going to happen, she’d have a little fun with him, at least.

“Of course, Sir Charles,” she replied easily, standing to tie the ribbon that had come with her dress around the end of his lance. “I would be remiss if I refused, since my brother values you so much. Though I must say that this form of flirting is very archaic and frighteningly phallic.”

He couldn’t suppress his laugh at her comment, and a curious smile remained on his face after he regained his composure. “Indeed it is, my lady, but I thank you, if only for the sake of my horse. I would hate for Jupiter to come to harm.”

“Jupiter does indeed seem a fine animal,” she agreed. “I pray he flies straight beside the tilt barrier.”

His eyes flickered slightly. He was surprised that she knew what it was called, she could tell. “Perhaps this barbaric practice will fall out of favor soon,” she couldn’t help adding, “since even this safe form of it tends to result in so many unnecessary injuries.”

“I prefer the theater myself, my lady,” he replied. “It is far more civil.”

“Ah, and it has far more dark corners to do your courting with a different kind of lance,” she teased, winking at him.

It was impossible not to appreciate a man who knew his history.

He laughed again, and gave her what she thought was a genuine smile this time, riding off before the laughter of the crowd died out around her. As he rode past Henry, he stopped, clearly telling him the story. Henry’s loud “Ha!” echoed across the field and he waved at her again. She waved back.

Anne flopped down next to her after tying her favor to the lance of some lesser knight, at least in her eyes. “I thought you said there was nothing between you since you’d just met,” she muttered.

“I thought we were supposed to play along,” Robin shrugged. “Isn’t that the point? To have fun?”

Apparently, Anne didn’t think so. She spent the rest of her time talking to a friend, and Robin grew increasingly disturbed as they discussed ways to trap men into marrying them.

If she talked to Charles again, she might want to warn him, at least. That seemed only fair.

She watched Charles joust. As far as she could tell, his form was excellent. He made it look easy. He won his bout.

Henry won his as well, but he wasn’t nearly as good as Charles, she thought. And while Henry flaunted his lesser skill, Charles said or did nothing to draw attention to his.

As soon as the event was over, Henry had to go, but he made sure his personal car was available to drive her home. She tried not to read too much into anything that had happened as she relaxed in the car. It had been a decent first meeting, and what had happened with Charles was just silly fun.

She had a lot to do, and she couldn’t get distracted. She’d do some planning once she was out of this dress and in a hot bath, and deal with getting to know her brother whenever he had the time to spare.

It was as good a plan as any for now.


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles visits Robin unexpectedly.

**England, September 2020**

Charles finished stretching and took a deep breath. He was ready for a long, solitary run.

Well, solitary with the exception of his favorite companion, his dog, Bear. He grabbed Bear’s leash and leaned down to pet him briefly.

“Ready to go, boy?” he asked.

Bear barked excitedly, so Charles stood and then they were off.

Only fifteen minutes had passed when he realized that he’d acquired a shadow of sorts. Anne Stafford was running not far behind him, in workout gear she’d clearly just purchased, and she was catching up to him.

He groaned inwardly. It was becoming a bit of a habit these days. He knew exactly what Anne’s methods were and the lengths she’d go to to trap a man, and he wasn’t interested in getting tangled up in that mess.

“Charles?” she simpered as she settled into a rhythm beside him. “I had no idea you ran. What a coincidence.”

He barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Bear was less obliging and growled at Anne loudly. She wrinkled her nose at him and Charles’ opinion of her dipped even lower, if that was possible. Who didn’t like dogs?

“Anne,” he greeted her neutrally. “Yes, I’m a runner. Every day, as long as I have the time.”

“I’ve been doing it for a while too,” she lied. “Isn’t it so amazing?”

He nodded vaguely. He needed some excuse to ditch her, because he was not starting his day like this.

It occurred to him that he was near Robin’s. He could drop in and check on her, see how she was doing.

It would certainly put Anne off. She’d been disappointed yesterday when he’d asked for Robin’s favors at the joust.

It had been Henry’s idea, of course. He hadn’t wanted anyone getting to his little sister just yet. But if it kept Anne away from Charles, he’d keep that secret to himself.

What he hadn’t expected was the way Robin had interacted with him. She’d looked absolutely stunning in her period gown, and she’d been knowledgeable and witty. It was very possible that there was more to her that he hadn’t considered.

And he should try to smooth things over regardless. She was Henry’s sister, and he was Henry’s best friend and colleague. They were going to see each other fairly regularly, as far as he knew. It would be for the best.

His decision made, he sped up a little, eager to get to his destination. “If you’ll pardon me, Anne, I have a stop to make. I’ll likely be a while. Enjoy the rest of your run.”

But she persisted in following him. “I can wait, Charles. Wouldn’t it be more fun to run together?”

“I’d hate to ruin your schedule,” he answered, slowing as he arrived at Robin’s gate.

He punched in the code, praying Robin hadn’t changed it yet, and made sure to block Anne’s view so she couldn’t see what he was typing.

He was very relieved when the gate opened. He slipped inside and quickly pressed it back so it would close and Anne couldn’t follow him.

“Charles!” Anne protested as the gate closed in her face and he made his way to Robin’s front door.

This was the potential hitch in his plan. She might not be awake. She might not let him in. There were several ways this could go wrong.

He took a deep breath and rang her doorbell, trying to be patient as he waited.

A moment later, she opened the door. He blinked in surprise as he realized she wasn’t wearing any pants. She had on tiny boy short panties and a gray Henley top with all the buttons undone. He could see her bra.

At least she was wearing one.

Her hair was disheveled, but she was clearly awake. “Charles?” she asked. “What are you doing here?”

He balked for a moment. “You answered the door dressed like that and you didn’t know who it was?” he criticized her. “You have a highly advanced security system.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “But I haven’t figured out how it works yet. What are you doing here?” she repeated.

He tore his eyes away from her very exposed cleavage and pursed his lips. “I’m afraid I need a favor.”

She smirked. “I already gave you my favors yesterday,” she teased.

Then she leaned sideways and peered around his bulging arms to her gate. “Ah. I see. You’re being chased. I was going to warn you about her, you know. She was saying some pretty scary things yesterday. Like holes in condoms scary.”

She waved over his shoulder and plastered on a fake smile. “Hello again, Anne!”

Charles didn’t turn to see how Anne reacted. She didn’t say anything, so she had probably just waved back.

“She does not like me,” Robin muttered. She glanced at Charles. “Oh, this is tempting, isn’t it? I could totally leave you dangling. And you might deserve it, honestly.”

He gave her an incredulous look. What had he possibly done to deserve that?

But he glossed over it for now. “I’m well aware of Anne’s methods,” he told her. “But thank you for the warning, nevertheless.”

Bear, who had been sitting behind Charles, now stuck his head out and barked softly at Robin. He fully expected her to react like Anne had earlier, but once again, she surprised him.

“Well, my goodness, who is this?” she cooed, bending down and reaching for Bear.

He eagerly went to her and she started to pet him, scratching behind his ears. His tongue lolled out of his mouth and she laughed. “You’re just a big, floofy baby, aren’t you?” she told him, giggling as she let him lick her face.

Charles chuckled, putting his hands on his hips as he watched them. “This is Bear,” he introduced her.

“He’s an American Akita, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” he said slowly. “How did you know that?”

“Because I know things,” she answered cryptically. “Um, how is he with cats?”

“You have a cat?”

She nodded. “She arrived yesterday.”

“He’ll listen to me. I don’t think he’ll go after a cat, but if he does…”

“Oh, I’m not asking for her,” Robin clarified. “I’m asking for him. She will beat him up if she decides she wants to.”

He choked back a laugh and raised an eyebrow.

“Totally serious,” she protested. “Do not mess with Emma. She’s got street smarts.”

“Duly noted,” he gave in.

Robin kissed Bear’s head and stood up. “Well, I can’t abandon him like this, so I guess you can come in,” she joked.

She turned and went back inside and he followed her, shutting the door behind him and sighing in relief.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely, holding onto Bear’s leash just in case the cat made an appearance.

“Welcome to my not very humble abode,” she responded, holding her arms out. “Isn’t this some Jane Austen shit?”

She spun around, snorting when she saw the appalled look on his face.

“Jane Austen shit?” he questioned when she didn’t say anything else.

She rolled her eyes. “I forgot that y’all are fancy when you swear over here. Should I have said Jane Austen shite?”

“That does not make it better,” he muttered. “You’re the most crass woman I’ve ever met.”

“Then you haven’t met many interesting women,” she pointed out. “You’re so uptight. You should try to have some fun. Besides showing up on my doorstep with your giant marshmallow dog in your sweaty Lululemon workout gear. That seems pretty spontaneous.”

He plucked at his favorite gray tank top. How had she known where it was from?

But he didn’t ask. “Marshmallow?” he wondered.

“Because he’s just a big softie,” she explained, coming over to pet Bear again.

As she straightened back up, she realized that her face was level with Charles’ crotch. “You’re making fun of what I’m wearing?” she retorted. “Those are the tiniest shorts I’ve ever seen on a man. Or is that just because you’re so big?”

She raised an eyebrow at him, letting him interpret the comment as he wanted.

He was confused. Was she flirting? Making fun? He couldn’t tell.

He didn’t dignify her question with a response. “How are you?” he asked. “Settling in well?”

“I’m doing all right,” she assured him.

But she frowned briefly, indicating that she might not be telling the whole truth.

“I thought you’d still be asleep, honestly,” he admitted.

She shook her head. “I’m working. I have a backlog to get through, and things to sort out for opening my shop.”

She was working? Why? She’d come into enough money so that she wouldn’t have to work for ten lifetimes, much less one. He’d figured she’d settle in and lead a cushy, lazy life.

Before he could ask what she did, she added, “I did take a break to do the _Risky Business_ slide through the entryway here. Bonnie waxed the floor so well that I almost slid right into the kitchen.”

He smiled in spite of himself. “Why don’t I make you breakfast?” he found himself asking unexpectedly. “Your pantry’s stocked, isn’t it?”

She nodded. “It is. But you don’t have to. I can just sneak you out the back or something. I assume you don’t want to stay.”

So he had given her the impression that he didn’t like her. He hadn’t meant to. It was hardly gentlemanly.

He’d have to rectify that.

“Why don’t we talk about that, among other things?” he suggested.

She shrugged nonchalantly, but she definitely looked wary. “All right.”

They stood and stared at each other for a moment. There was a palpable tension in the air between them, and he couldn’t quite figure it out. He didn’t like her. He didn’t think. Though he hadn’t meant to let her know that.

And she clearly didn’t like him. He didn’t think. She was sending some serious mixed signals.

Well, it was no matter. They were going to sort all of it out, he decided. Right now.

Bear whined and nudged her legs, breaking the spell. She laughed and resumed petting him.

“You want breakfast too, huh, big guy? I bet I have something you can have, as long as Charles says it’s okay.”

“Of course,” he agreed, happy that she’d planned to ask first. Too many people took liberties with pets when they didn’t understand what animals needed at all. “I’ll see what you have and find something. And replace anything we use, of course.”

She waved a hand dismissively at him. “Oh, please. It’s a weird feeling, but for once in my life, I don’t have to worry about money. It’s nice of you to offer, though. Thank you.”

He nodded, laughing as Bear howled and it echoed in the foyer.

She gazed at him curiously for a moment, then smiled. “All right, all right. Big baby. Come on.”

She stood and led them into the kitchen. Charles couldn’t help noticing how amazing her ass looked in her tiny panties.

Best not to think about that now, though. They had a lot to talk about.


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles and Robin talk openly and honestly.

**England, September 2020**

Charles raided Robin’s pantry and fridge while she sat back down in front of her laptop, putting her feet up on her enormous island. His eyes flicked to her disapprovingly when he saw and she rolled her own.

“Okay, that?” She waved her fingers at his face. “That has to stop. You are in my house. I’m sorry I dared to put my feet on your precious car seat yesterday. That was rude of me and I should have asked first. But you don’t get to have a stick up your ass about how I behave in my own home.”

His brow furrowed. “I don’t have a stick up my ass,” he muttered, methodically setting the ingredients he’d selected out on the counter.

“You do, and it’s a big one,” she countered, squinting at what he’d grabbed. “Are we having chicken for breakfast?”

“No, that’s for Bear.”

“He’ll just eat a whole chicken like that?”

Charles nodded. “He’s used to it. You have to be careful introducing new food into their diet if they’ve never had it before. Risk of allergies, stomach upset, all of that. It’s better if it’s organic, no additives, like this one. He eats them a lot, but I especially always give him one every Thanksgiving, since he’s American and all.”

He grabbed a tray from one of the shelves in the island, unwrapped the chicken, and set it on it, then put the tray in front of Bear. The dog howled gratefully and settled in to eat while Charles washed his hands to tackle human breakfast.

He paused when he saw that she was smiling at him softly. “That’s, like, the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard,” she told him.

He chuckled and blushed a little. “Have to have family traditions,” he murmured.

She nodded curiously, then gestured to all of the ingredients he’d chosen. “What are we having?”

“A full English breakfast,” he answered. “One of my favorite British things, and one you should learn to appreciate.”

“I’ve always wanted to try one,” she admitted.

“Really?” He paused. “Even the black pudding? You know what it is, right?”

She laughed and nodded. “Yes, really. And even the black pudding, despite what it is. I’m an adventurous cook and eater.”

“Duly noted.”

He got water boiling for tea first, getting out the cups and setting up the tea tray with everything they’d need. She watched him silently for a moment, then asked, “How do you know where everything is in my kitchen?”

He paused as he set the tray near her on the island. “I set the house up with everything you’d need. Henry asked me to handle it.”

“You’re in charge of the entire British military and he has you setting up houses?”

“Your house,” he corrected her. “Henry is… very particular about who does things for his female family members. He trusts me, so.”

“Yeah, um, can we talk about how gross that whole attitude is for a second? The idea that he has to keep people away from me, or explicitly tell them not to sleep with me? That whole assuming I can’t take care of myself thing is an issue for me.”

Charles flushed. “It’s an issue for most women,” he acknowledged, “but if you want my advice, don’t bring it up with Henry.”

“That’s your advice? Just ignore his problems and let him think it’s okay?”

Charles sighed. “Yes. I don’t like it anymore than you do, but I’m closer to him than anyone, so just trust me.”

“You don’t like it?”

“Of course I don’t,” he retorted, opening ingredients for the beans.

She leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms loosely over her chest. “You wanted to talk,” she said. “Maybe we should start over at the beginning or something. Because I feel like we got off on the wrong foot with each other.”

He nodded, removing the water as it started boiling and pouring it into the teapot to let the tea steep. “I think we did, Robin. But, honestly? I’m not exactly sure where to start, because I’m not exactly sure where I went wrong.”

He kept working, watching her as she nodded. “Okay. I can help with that.” She paused, thinking. “Your first impression is, frankly, great. You are super mega attractive, you dress well, you have the sexy accent, you smell nice. It’s honestly a little unfair. And you’re very polite, which is good and all.”

He knew his cheeks were red as he processed all her compliments, but he ignored that for the moment. “But?”

He knew the but was inevitable.

“Why don’t you tell me about your first impression of me first?” she suggested.

“That seems fair.” He collected his thoughts. “You’re sweet,” he began. “Very pretty. Um, more than pretty really,” he scrambled to correct himself. “Gorgeous. Stunning. I honestly thought you’d be arrogant, like most Americans I’ve met, but you’re not. You’re humble. And you seem genuinely interested in learning about new places and trying new things.”

“I am,” she agreed. “But?”

He shook his head at her playfully. “You first. How do you take your tea?”

“I don’t drink tea. I drink coffee. American, remember?” She smirked at him to make it clear that she was joking. “I’d love to try some tea, Charles. However a proper Brit is supposed to drink it.”

He smiled, putting a dash of milk in each cup, then filling them with tea. “This is black tea,” he explained. “Perfect for the morning, with a little milk.”

He set a cup in front of her, watching as she took a careful sip. She nodded at him and smiled. “It’s good. Thank you.” She took another sip, then grinned. “And now you’re wanting my answer, aren’t you?”

“If you want to give it, Robin.”

He took a sip of his own tea as she started. “Look, Charles. I know that I screwed up. The feet on the seat. Mistaking you for a bodyguard. I’m sorry I didn’t realize that you were actually a far more important person than that. Not that there’s anything wrong with being a bodyguard. Just… I get it. I get being upset when someone assumes all you’re good for is what you look like you’re good for.”

Before he could respond, she continued. “And I’m sorry that I don’t know as much as I should about all of this. It’s not an excuse. I don’t like excuses. But a week ago, I got a phone call and someone told me that the father I never knew about was dead, and that he’d provided for me in his will in, well, honestly, kind of a ridiculous fashion. I’m not sure anyone should have this much of anything. I’m going to have to figure that out. I have been scrambling to learn as much as I could, and I obviously let plenty fall through the cracks.”

He’d stopped working completely and was just listening to her now.

“And I’m sorry I goaded you about how you were… unnecessary,” she breathed. “I am very used to being devalued by men because I’m, hell, whatever they’re pissed off about at the moment. Too pretty. Not pretty enough. Too smart. Not smart enough. So I try to put men in their place as soon as I can to prove a point.”

“And with you, it honestly seems even more important,” she confessed. “You seem to know more about me than I do, and I know you saw me cry yesterday. That makes me feel vulnerable, and I don’t like feeling vulnerable.”

She took another sip of tea, staring resolutely down at the cup as she waited for him to say something back.

When he did, his voice was quiet and comforting. “I should have taken your grief into account, Robin,” he apologized. “I know you didn’t know your father, but all of this…” He gestured to the house around them. “It can’t make it easy. It doesn’t mean you don’t have feelings about any of it, or that it means nothing to you. I could tell that certain things he’d done had significance for you when I dropped you off, though I don’t know what.”

He paused so she could interject if she wanted to, and she did. “I love Jane Austen,” she explained softly. “I know, very stereotypical for a woman, but I do. It’s a very insignificant detail, really, but… he knew. Somehow, my father knew that, Charles. He knew my name. He knew enough to find me. He knew that I like Jane Austen, so he called this house Pemberley. He knew that my favorite novel of hers was Persuasion, which was published in 1818, which he made the code to the gate. He knew that I don’t drive, which I suppose would be easy enough to figure out if he had a copy of my license. I assume he had a private investigator or something, or maybe my mother was in touch with him, because he couldn’t have gotten everything off of my social media. And even if that was all it was, he couldn’t have known all of that. I don’t talk about the driving thing in public.”

She sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe he even knew that the reason I don’t drive is because getting behind the wheel sends me straight into a panic attack, so he made sure I’d be living somewhere I didn’t have to.”

His face fell as she carefully set her teacup down, put her head in her hands, and started to sob quietly. He quickly moved around the counter and tentatively put his arms around her.

“Sorry. I’m sweaty,” he murmured.

“It’s okay,” she managed to say through her tears.

He tightened his arms around her and she buried her face against his chest. He stroked her mussed hair while she continued to cry.

“I’m sorry,” she finally said, pulling away slightly.

“Don’t be, Robin. I know you don’t like being vulnerable, but it doesn’t make me think less of you. And I won’t tell anyone.”

“I know you won’t,” she said.

He wondered how, but didn’t want to make the conversation about him at this point.

“I just can’t help thinking that he knew all those things, did all of this for me, but… never tried to meet me. To talk to me. And I don’t understand why.”

He smoothed her hair back and wiped her tears away with his thumbs. “I’ve known Henry since we were both kids, so I spent a decent amount of time around his dad. He was… never a very demonstrative man. What he was was very successful. And while I can’t say for sure, I think he was probably showing affection to you the only way he knew how, by providing.”

He sighed. “And I know that’s not enough. Providing is all well and good, but affection and love are far more important.”

She nodded. “I didn’t mean to get all maudlin on you.”

“You’re just being honest. I appreciate that.” He stepped back a little more, reluctantly letting go of her. “Finish your tea. Brits think that tea cures anything,” he teased.

“Yeah, I saw that episode of the new Doctor Who with the evil Christmas tree where all he needed was tea to wake up,” she joked.

“You like Doctor Who?”

“Yeah. I’d like to see some of the older stuff. I’ve only seen the new series.”

“Well, we should have a marathon sometime,” he decided as he got back to making breakfast.

She dutifully finished her tea as he got back to work. “You want to hang out with me more? We got distracted and didn’t even get to what we don’t like about each other.”

He smiled at her. “More tea?”

“Please.”

He made her another cup and they both laughed as Bear finished his chicken, then snuffled and flopped happily onto the floor for a nap.

“Do you really not like me?” he asked softly.

“It’s not that, exactly, Charles,” she admitted. “You just seem very straight-laced. Like you have no personality. Your kindness and sympathy all come across as… fake. And I’m not sure you know how to have fun. When I told Bonnie all that yesterday, though, I had a feeling she wasn’t telling me something, and now I’m wondering if it’s that I was wrong, considering what I’ve seen since.”

“That’s why you said I deserved to dangle at the door,” he mused. “Why the sudden change of opinion, specifically?”

“Yesterday, when I spoke to Henry for the first time, I realized that you hadn’t said anything bad about me to him, even though you clearly weren’t my biggest fan. And at the tournament, you played along with my dorky comments. You don’t like scary Anne, which shows good judgment, and you love your dog so much you treat him like a person, which is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard of.”

She paused and he kept his head down, chopping vegetables as the meat cooked.

Finally, he ventured, “It’s not that the properness is a lie, Robin. It’s just that I have to be very careful. I’m always in the public eye, and I have a very serious job, so I can’t make any mistakes. Especially around new people. I have to assume I can’t trust anyone. Especially women.”

“Henry said you were a playboy. That it’s caused problems for you.”

His head snapped up and he fixed her with a stern gaze. “I’m not like that,” he said firmly. “Henry doesn’t know anything about my love life.”

“Okay,” she agreed, not wanting to push him.

“I thought you were crass, Robin,” he finally admitted. “Inappropriate and willfully ignorant about other people, places, and things.”

“I am a little inappropriate,” she agreed. “I try not to be ignorant.”

“You’re not,” he assured her, putting bread in a pan to toast it. “You’re smart, and while your sense of humor may be a little… strange, I actually like it. I’m just not used to it. I’m not used to someone being so… themselves. You are… unapologetically yourself, and deep down, I think I hate you for it, because I can’t afford to be like that.”

She gazed at him curiously, not saying anything.

“You’re not afraid to say what you think, and not afraid of how you say it,” he explained. “You don’t care that you answer your door practically naked. You have nerdy, ridiculous fun with everything, which is incredibly endearing. You obviously love animals, since you were nice to Bear. And the fact that you’re not afraid, that you’re confident in yourself? You don’t let it make you into an awful person. You were going to warn me about Anne, even though you thought I didn’t like you.”

“Which I do, by the way,” he added softly. “Very much.”

She was grinning at him now, and he smiled. “Breakfast is ready,” he announced.

“Finally,” she teased. “I’m starving.”

He laughed and retrieved two gigantic plates from her cabinets. “Give me a moment, then we can talk more.”

She nodded. “All right. I’d like that.”


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles and Robin are interrupted.

**England, September 2020**

Robin stared down at her plate skeptically. “You eat all of this every morning?”

There was bacon, sausage, two over-easy eggs, black pudding, baked beans, roasted tomatoes and mushrooms, and buttered toast to mop it all up. And more tea, of course.

Charles laughed. “Me personally? No. My diet is a little different, to keep up my physique. But this is a nice indulgence every once in a while.” He studied the plate. “The amount of food is probably about right, though.”

“I’m scared to ask, but I’m going to,” she decided, starting to sample everything.

“Well, the key, besides specific kinds of exercise, of course, is protein. That’s how I’m so, uh, big, as you pointed out earlier.”

She raised her eyebrows at him and smirked sultrily, making him laugh again.

“Breakfast is usually steak and eggs with an oatmeal protein shake,” he explained. “I eat lunch twice. Chicken curry and rice with an apple first, then roast chicken and potatoes with curry sauce second.”

“You like curry,” Robin interrupted him.

“Yeah, I do,” he said a little sheepishly. “It’s one of my favorites.”

“Mine too,” she admitted. “Do you make your own, or buy it?”

He smiled. “Depends on the day and how busy I am. I usually try to make my own. You?”

“I’ve only ever made it. I’ve never lived somewhere close to authentic Indian food.”

“That’s easily rectified here. I’ll give you a list of my favorite places, or take you there, if you’d like.”

“Having an escort would be nice,” she said softly. “Dare I ask what’s for dinner?”

“Bison steak and brown rice pasta, then another protein shake made with greens.” She wrinkled her nose and he chuckled. “It tastes better than it sounds. And looks. I swear.”

“Do you ever, you know, cheat?” she wondered.

“It’s not really cheating, strictly speaking. Really, I can eat whatever I’d like for a few days in a row as long as I keep up with the exercise and knuckle down on the food eventually. It’s more of a lifestyle thing than a diet, really. And it makes my decisions about what to eat easier, especially if I’m busy.”

He picked up a piece of bacon and ate it in two bites. “I’d never say no to Italian, though. That’s probably my weakness.”

“Can I ask a question that might seem a little silly?”

He nodded. “Sure.”

“Why the dedication to fitness? You’re a politician, not an athlete or a movie star or something like that.”

His eyes darkened a little and he shrugged. “It’s something I’ve been into for a long time, that’s all.”

She could sense that that wasn’t the whole answer, but she decided not to push him for now. Instead, she speared a piece of blood pudding with her fork and held it up.

“So I’ve heard about blood pudding and know what it is, generally speaking, but what exactly is in it? And why is it called pudding when it looks like a sausage?”

“It’s a mixture of pork blood, pork fat, oatmeal, and herbs,” he told her. “It’s called pudding because the word is derived from the French word boudin, which comes from the Latin word botellus. It means small sausage.”

“Fancy.” She took a bite and instantly made a face. “Oh, that is… strong.”

Charles grinned at her. “It’s a bit of an acquired taste.”

She eyed him, then cut off another piece, pairing it with some egg. “Better.”

He rested his cheek against his hand and watched her affectionately. He thought it was sweet that she was willing to try it.

She blushed and looked down at her plate. She couldn’t think when he was staring at her like that.

“Did you enjoy meeting Henry yesterday?”

He figured it wouldn’t hurt to steer the conversation in a different direction.

Robin shrugged. “He was nice enough, I suppose. We really didn’t get much of a chance to talk. He said we’d have dinner this week, but I’m not sure that’s going to happen.”

“He’s very busy,” Charles agreed, “but it might.”

“What’s with the historical sporting stuff?” she wondered. “You mentioned that when you invited me to a literal joust.”

He laughed. “It’s one of Henry’s quirks, born of being wealthy and having a decent amount of time to fill in his early life, I suppose. He’s very interested in history, just like I am, but he’s much more hands-on and demonstrative.”

“What periods of history are your favorites? I could tell you were well-versed in it when we talked yesterday.”

He nodded. “I am. I stay in, mostly, so I do a lot of reading. I prefer ancient history. Greece, Egypt, Rome. I actually considered being an Egyptologist at one point.”

“Really?” She winked at him. “So did I.”

“Really?” he repeated, smiling widely at her.

“It’s just so interesting. They accomplished so much with seemingly so little. And the tombs. I mean, who wouldn’t want to at least see one of those? Discovering one would be even more interesting.”

“As long as you don’t believe in curses,” he teased.

She rolled her eyes playfully. “I certainly don’t, though they definitely make good movie plots.”

“I’ve always wanted to go see the pyramids one day,” he told her.

“Me too.”

He bit his lip. The first thought that had occurred to him was that he could go see them with her, but that was a bit ridiculous, wasn’t it, considering their circumstances?

“Can I ask you something else about Henry?” Robin ventured, moving on and saving him from contemplating that further.

“Of course,” Charles offered.

“You said he wanted me to be… more involved. We didn’t get a chance to talk about that. What did you mean?”

Charles ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I’m not sure I should say anything.”

She bit her lip. “I understand, but what if I swear not to tell?”

He tilted his head as he thought about it. Somehow, he’d gone from being indifferent to being put off to having sympathy to liking her in a very short time. He knew Henry wasn’t going to be forthcoming, and he didn’t want her to be unprepared.

“How much do you know about Henry?”

He poured them both fresh cups of tea.

“Just what I read online, and I don’t know how accurate most of that was.”

“What was your impression?”

His voice was careful, like he was trying not to affect her opinion with his own.

“Well, he’s liberal enough. Not quite as liberal as I am, but oh well. But I made the assumption that I would only meet him once based on the fact that he really doesn’t seem that interested in his family. Catherine and Mary seem attached at the hip, but he’s hardly ever with them.”

“There’s some… troubled history there,” Charles hinted at vaguely.

“But you’re not going to tell me,” she guessed.

He set down his fork and stared at her across the table. “I told you I have to be careful about who I can trust, Robin. I want to trust you, but you understand that if I do and I’m wrong, I am risking everything, don’t you?”

She nodded. “I understand, Charles. I’m sorry. I won’t ask for any information you can’t give, and I can accept no for an answer.”

He hadn’t expected her to understand that easily. He bit his lip and quickly made a decision. He had behaved abominably toward her, and it had been unjust. She was alone here, for all intents and purposes, and she deserved someone who was on her side.

“Catherine is thirteen years older than Henry,” he said softly. “It was a political marriage more than anything, though I know that sounds ridiculous for these times, but they were both aware when they entered into it.”

“Henry wants a dynasty,” he continued. “A son, preferably sons. But after Mary, Catherine had several early miscarriages. They were kept from the public, and eventually, she decided she didn’t want to try to have any more children. It’s been a sore spot for him ever since. But it’s still more about the succession for him, not wanting children to love.”

“You, I think,” he finished carefully, “offer him an opportunity to seem warm to his family. Especially because you are the result of his father’s affair. It makes him seem that much more benevolent.”

“He wants to use me,” she realized bluntly.

“Yes, he said as much,” Charles confessed. “Though he didn’t tell me exactly how.”

“And what do you think about that?”

“I don’t approve, but it is not my place to disapprove of Henry.”

“You act like he’s a king, Charles, but he’s not,” she pointed out.

“He may as well be, at least to me. I’m his friend, not just his colleague. I owe him immeasurably.”

“For what? Because I doubt it’s your position. You must have earned that.”

“I did. But Henry has done other things for me in the name of friendship that I not only must repay, but remember. My honor is at stake.”

“So you just do what he tells you?” she wondered. “Without question?”

“Hardly, Robin,” he responded patiently. “I simply choose my battles carefully.”

Impulsively, he leaned forward and grabbed her hand. “If he makes you one of those battles, Robin, I will fight for you. Not that I think you can’t fight for yourself. I know very well that you can. But I pray it does not come to that, for I would hate to see you and Henry estranged because of his strange notions of loyalty.”

She stared at him for a moment, deeply affected by his declaration. “You really are a knight,” she finally observed quietly.

“What?”

He was confused.

“Henry told me that you’re a knight. Sir Charles Brandon. And you certainly spoke as I imagine a knight would just now.”

Charles blushed. “I am a knight, yes,” he confirmed. “Though not because of the way I speak. Because of my efforts at supporting conservation throughout the UK and other parts of the world.”

“You’ll have to tell me more about that later.”

“Why later? Why not now?”

“Because right now I want to ask you about your supposed reputation. Why does my brother say you’re a playboy? You took great offense when I mentioned it earlier.”

He licked his lips. “Your brother’s love life is challenging, to say the least. I don’t choose to burden him with my own troubles, so we don’t speak of them. Henry knows nothing of my romantic desires. He simply assumes that because I’ve dated a certain number of women, I must be… fickle in my attentions.”

“Hence him telling you to stay away from me.”

He nodded. “Yes. But what I really want, Robin, is to settle down. To marry and have a family of my own. It’s what I’ve always wanted. I’ve simply encountered great difficulties along the way.”

“You want to fall in love,” she whispered.

“Yes. But at every turn, love seems to elude me.”

They gazed at each other for a moment. Both would have sworn that the air around them was electrically charged.

Without thinking, she murmured, “Could my brother keep you from someone you loved?”

He shook his head, his blue eyes boring into hers. For the first time, she noticed that one of them had a spot of brown in it.

“If I was in love, Robin, nothing could keep me from her.”

She tried to take a breath and found she couldn’t. She suddenly found herself imagining what it would be like to be loved the way Charles intended to love the woman he chose to spend the rest of his life with.

Neither of them had any idea what to say or do next. But at that precise moment, a loud cry echoed from the foyer.

“Hello?”

The sound echoed, bouncing off the high ceiling and walls. Bear snuffled and quickly sat up, alert after his nap. Charles’ eyes widened and he looked alarmed.

“What in the hell was that?” he wondered.

Robin burst out laughing and pointed as a black and white cat sauntered into the room and meowed loudly.

Charles blinked as he realized that the meow formed the same hello he’d heard a moment ago. Bear tilted his head and eyed the cat curiously as she jumped up onto the counter and immediately started to rub herself against Robin’s chin, demanding attention.

“Emma,” Robin cooed. “How are you, sweet girl? Oh, hello.”

Robin giggled as she pet the cat, scratching her behind her ears and under her chin. Charles eyed her tail curiously. It was short, nothing but a stub that seemed to wag as Robin pet her.

“What happened to her tail?” he asked.

“She was a rescue,” Robin explained. “Some bastard chopped it off. I hope she scratched his eyes out. Yes, I do,” she hummed at the cat, still petting her. “Yes, I do.”

Bear growled in disapproval at the mention of someone hurting Emma. She moved to the edge of the counter and studied the dog, leaning out to touch her nose to his.

Both animals stood silently for a moment, just staring at each other. Then Emma hopped onto Bear’s back. He carefully laid back down on the floor so he wouldn’t dislodge her and she curled up contentedly on him, her head resting in the crook of his neck.

Charles chuckled. “Well, I’ve never seen him do that before.”

“Her either,” Robin admitted, giggling. “Looks cozy.”

“It does indeed,” he agreed.

He licked his lips, not sure he wanted to revisit where they’d left off their conversation. At least not yet. So he decided to direct them a different way instead.

“You mentioned opening a shop when I arrived,” he remembered. “What do you do?”

“I’m a rare book dealer,” she answered.

He paused with another piece of bacon halfway to his mouth. “Really? That’s very interesting,” he said sincerely.

“Probably not as interesting as you think,” she countered. “I’m not selling old volumes of Shakespeare or anything newsworthy like that. I specialize in women’s writing of the Romantic period, particularly little known and hard to find items. I’ll authenticate or attempt to find anything a client wants, though.”

“Do people often go to rare book shops?” he wondered. “It’s an honest question, by the way.”

“Well, no,” she admitted. “But I want to sell copies of older books that aren’t particularly in demand, but people still want to collect. It’s a bit of a new niche in the business that I’d like to fill.”

She scooped up some beans and sighed. “It might also give me some credibility,” she mentioned. “If you’re forty in this business, you’re considered a whippersnapper.”

“And you’re not even close to that old,” Charles observed.

“Oh, please,” she scoffed, grinning at him. “I’m 36. Close enough. But that means another fourteen years or so of proving myself, so anything that can speed it along.”

He was on the verge of asking her what he wanted to know most, why she was planning to work even though she’d just inherited an enormous fortune, when his phone rang.

Reluctantly, he took it out and looked at it. “It’s Henry,” he revealed, answering it.

Robin nodded and took the opportunity to finish her breakfast. Charles had already cleaned his plate.

“Good morning, Henry,” he spoke into the phone, immediately frowning. “Henry, calm down. I can’t understand you. You said something about Elizabeth?”

Robin’s brow furrowed as Charles pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers and sighed silently. “I’ll be right over, Henry. Everything is going to be okay.” He paused and listened. “No, I’m not far. I’m at your sister’s, actually. I ran by during my morning jog and decided to see how she was settling in.”

He rolled his eyes slightly and shook his head. “Of course you’re not on speaker, Henry. Just sit tight. I’ll be there before you know it.”

He hung up and smiled at her apologetically. “I have to go,” he announced unnecessarily. “I have to get Bear home, change, and go deal with this. I’m sorry to leave you with a sink full of dirty dishes.”

She knew better than to ask what was going on, though she was disappointed to see him leave. “I have a housekeeper, Charles,” she reminded him first, “so don’t worry about the dishes. But, um, why doesn’t Bear stay with me? You can come back for him later, and I’ll make us dinner. It sounds like you’re going to have a long day.”

He hesitated, surprised at the offer. “That’s very kind,” he finally said. “I wouldn’t be inconveniencing you?”

“Of course not. I wouldn’t have offered if you were.”

“Then I would very much like that,” he admitted.

“Just let me know what to do with the big guy and tell me when you think you’re going to be back.”

“I’ll text you, if that’s all right. I have your number already, of course.”

“I figured as much.”

She hopped up to walk him to the front door. He bent down and patted Bear’s head. “Be a good boy for Robin, huh?”

Bear barked softly and Charles grinned.

At the door, he turned to Robin. “Thank you again for the rescue.”

“Thank you for the breakfast. It was wonderful.”

“Good.”

He leaned in and briefly kissed her cheek. She was surprised by the gesture, but leaned into it, breathing in deeply and smelling him while he was close.

“I’ll see you tonight, Robin,” he promised.

“I’m looking forward to it, Charles.”

She leaned in the doorway, watching him appreciatively as he jogged to the gate, punching in the code and heading back in the direction of home.

She looked down as Bear joined her. He was walking slowly because Emma was still clinging to his back.

She leaned down and ruffled his fur. “Your daddy has an ass that just won’t quit, Bear.”

The dog tilted his head quizzically and she laughed, shutting the door and heading back inside to return to the rest of her day.


End file.
